Mate (Bts Jk X hunter Reader)

8.

Werewolves could scar. You had never believed they could, after all, they were widely known for their healing abilities. Their bodies healed almost as quickly as they were injured, they never knew what it was like to be sick unless they had been born human. Even the hybrids, the children of a human and a werewolf, had the quick healing ability. 

You had always found that factor fascinating, knowing it was meant to be annoying to a hunter. Quick healing meant quick escapes, it meant they were hard to pin down with a bullet wound, even harder with something handheld, like a sword. Silver, silver was one thing they didn't heal from, not while they were in contact with it. But to get close enough to a werewolf to keep the silver in their skin was one task not many hunters signed up for.

To get that close, to get within range of claws and teeth, to get into a werewolf's space was a death wish. It was one reason your trainer had held you back from Jungkook when he was just a kid with his leg caught in a bear trap, why he wouldn't let you get anywhere near him, in case he tried to attack. It had been a full moon that night and you could remember it like it was yesterday, the first time you'd ever seen a werewolf in person.

 He hadn't looked any different from any other fifteen-year-old boy in your school, he was handsome but that was about it, no sharp teeth, no claws. His eyes had been a duller amber than they were when he shifted now but looking back at it now, you wondered if his eyes had only been that colour to help him see in the darkness, his body attempting to give him any way to survive.

You had learned a few things from dating Jungkook, things you knew hunters never learned. Like how werewolves didn't start shifting on full moons until they were eighteen, how he had been nowhere near being able to shift that night. He hadn't been strong enough yet, he didn't have access to that side of him, the side that would've allowed to just pull the trap apart with his bare hands and walk away from it. He had truly been a sitting duck, hoping his cries for his father, for Taehyung, Jimin, anyone in his pack would get enough attention and get him help.

You had tried to avoid thinking about the night ever since you'd connected the dots and realized Jungkook was the same boy you'd helped, the same boy who had so heavily leaned onto your shoulder, who had been so weakened from blood loss and pain that he'd knocked out just after his father had begun to carry him. You'd never thought of it before but your boyfriend was a prime example of scarring. You prided yourself on knowing Jungkook's body better than your own, having memorized it entirely, knowing each and every tattoo, knowing each line and curve but you had never noticed the scar on his leg.

He had a visible scar on his cheek, from his childhood. It was hard to miss that one, regardless of how faint it could be. In the sun, it was emphasized and you had always adored it but it had never quite sunk in that it was a scar. You had asked him about it once, just to find out how it had gotten there. It was small, something easily missed if you didn't spend as much time with him as you did. But the scar on his leg was harder to miss, impossible to dismiss as a mere scratch.

He had just gotten out of the shower, a towel loosely wrapped around his hips. You were occupying his laptop when he came out, making him wonder just when he'd gotten so tightly wrapped around his fingers that all of his things had become yours. You weren't fully paying attention to the video you'd started watching while he was in the shower, losing any hope of focusing on it when you saw him walking over to his dresser, admiring the dark ink covering his skin.

 He didn't play much with their colouring or shading, preferring the simpler lined tattoos over realistic tattoos. Your favourite was the tattoo that ran down his spine, the phases of the moon, normally hidden by his shirt. You had been taking your time to admire it, letting your eyes slowly trail down his back, following the movement of the tattoos before you'd noticed a flash of black on his ankle.

It was his newest but you had yet to see it, due to him having to keep it covered while it healed, an inhumanly fast process but still a process. It was then you noticed the faint red marks running across his calf, four on each side of his right leg with just a few centimetres between each one. 

You felt guilt immediately flooding your system, knowing it was from that night. You knew Jungkook hadn't been caught long, ten minutes at the most but you knew it had been too long. You couldn't imagine how painful it must've been, how much fear must've been running through his system at the realization he wasn't in his territory and he'd been caught.

He never spoke about it but you were curious to see if he would, if you asked him to. Jungkook had always told you he had difficulty opening up but he didn't seem to have any issues with it, at least not with you, not now. As he spoke, your fingers traced the scars, lightly, as if it would still hurt if you applied too much pressure. You had never heard his side of the story, never heard that he had been trying to get home after going to the bowling alley with some of the younger pack members, the ones who didn't have to worry about the full moon yet. 

He told you they had all split up, a bet placed to see who could find the fastest route to get home. He told you it was them, Jimin and Taehyung, that had been there that night, that had run to his side as his father picked him up, them who had been staring at his leg with wide eyes. You wondered if he recognized you if he knew it was you he was talking about now, you who'd stopped the hunter from cutting his leg off entirely or doing anything worse. If he did, he didn't make any notion that he remembered your face or that he had even seen it in his panicked state.

You learned that werewolves scarred when their bodies attempted to heal too quickly. It was why werewolves that had gotten into fights with hunters almost always had some form of scar from it, normally a bullet wound from not being able to get the bullet out before their bodies were healing around it. His body had tried to heal itself while his leg was still caught, causing the scars that now stretched across his calf, permanent reminders of that night. All you could do was press a gentle kiss to them, vowing to yourself that you would never let it happen again.